Wednesday, August 18, 2010

bounty hunter

putting roots down means letting yourself grow deeper into a placewhich is a different kind of growth, not the spreading wide of branches orrambling of tumbleweeds, but settling in,growing in literal and figurative ways: growing one's own foodgrowing closer to the local peopletaking care of your community, late night hospital shifts,fixing the broken peoplewatching the new babies of newport be born into the world,holding the hands of those who are dying.

each day the ocean schools us, bodily and mentally,today: head high + glassy walls,the usual suspects in the line upfriends, these once-strangers-now-smiling-facesyelling each other into silvery wallsgliding across zipping lines.patience, the secret rhythm of the seashort bursts, then lulls, then ferocitymore waiting-- this is just like lifelife-likelife.shedding water in the parking lotour brothers are laughing,planning another dinner, another bonfireanother day, another year, another weektogether.

at dusk, i go to the garden,harvest some recent cold-weather vegetablesthank god that i dont live in a placewhere the sun shines constantlyand where millions of people would want to sharethe land with me.

now as night falls, quiet descends.only the continuous pulse of wavespounding the sand outside my windowfilters in through the salt air.the ocean brings gifts,and the almost indiscernible soundof relief.